


Kissception

by MoreHuman



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, New Relationship, trolling as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:42:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoreHuman/pseuds/MoreHuman
Summary: Patrick has figured out how to make David want it. It isn’t that hard, to be honest.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 32
Kudos: 287





	Kissception

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the following kiss prompt: _A breathy demand: “Kiss me” — and what the other person does to respond._
> 
> Sorry not sorry about the gloriously terrible title.

Patrick has figured out how to make David want it. It isn’t that hard, to be honest. 

The key is to do whatever it takes to draw David’s attention to his mouth and keep it there. It doesn’t take much. In the week since their first kiss, Patrick has already trained himself to new habits. He’s always chewed his bottom lip when he’s thinking something over, but he starts really leaning into that, running his teeth across it slowly, deliberately, back and forth, back and forth as he squints down at Excel. He whistles while he restocks the shelves, wetting his lips with his tongue whenever they get too dry. He takes a phone order and traces a finger faux-absently around the outline of his mouth while jotting down the customer’s credit card info.

The other key is to never, ever make eye contact with David during these moments, lest he forfeit his plausible deniability. Because Patrick knows what he’s doing, but it feels important that David not know that Patrick knows what he’s doing.

He knows it’s not the mature thing to do. The mature thing would be to just kiss David himself, if that’s what he wants. Right? Or, no, maybe the mature thing would be to ask to be kissed, if that’s what he wants. The problem is that “if that’s what he wants” comes very close to meaning “whenever he wants,” which comes very close to meaning “all day long.” And begging David to kiss him all day long is no way to run a business. That’s not mature.

So it’s easier to let it be David’s idea. And David does usually get the idea. Patrick can feel him all the time, hovering just at the edge of his peripheral vision while Patrick worries at his lips with his teeth, his tongue, or his fingertips. He can feel David wanting him.

Patrick has been wanted before, of course. Rachel, the handful of other girls he’s been with, they all wanted him, but not like this. Their desire never got its hooks in him, never pulled silly mind games out of him, never made him feel powerful. He hopes one day he’ll find the words to tell David what a difference that makes, what it means to him.

But today is not that day. The clock strikes five, David flips the OPENsign to CLOSED, and whirls around to face him in the store that’s just theirs now, nominally if not functionally private. There’s only one conversation Patrick is interested in having.

“Do you want to kiss me, David?” he asks in a tone that already knows the answer. He crosses his arms over his chest and cants one hip against the body milk corner of the center table.

David rolls his eyes even as he slinks up and into Patrick’s space, leaning in close without touching him. The body milks clink together softly as they make room for David’s palms on the table, and Patrick ends up boxed in between David’s arms, exactly where he wants to be. David’s reply is almost a growl.

“I always want to kiss you.”

Patrick feels a sudden inhale against his lips, and David jolts backward, seeming to want to reel these words back in as soon as they’re out.

“I mean—I don’t mean—” David starts, contradicts. His hands fly up to rub at his own lips, as if to make them answer for their betrayal.

“Hey.” Patrick catches David’s wrists in his hands and tries to figure out how to diffuse this panic.

 _Me too,_ he should say. _I always want that, too. You think this was your idea, but it’s mine. You’re not alone here._

“Kiss me,” is what he does say, giving David’s wrists a little squeeze, and then obeys his own command. 

Patrick closes more than his share of the distance between them and takes David’s mouth while it’s still open in surprise. There’s an awkward beat as their lips and tongues find the rhythm of each other, then those individual sensations disappear inside the heat and hunger of the kiss. David lets out a moan that Patrick swears he can _taste_ as he swallows it down. His hands are no longer on David’s wrists, they’re at his neck, his shoulders, tugging them both in the direction of _deeper_ , and they follow, together.

Reality takes a second to right itself when it’s over, such that Patrick is several breaths in, his consciousness re-expanding to fill the whole room and not just the three inches in front of his face, before he realizes that it _is_ over. His hands, resting against David’s throat, register a thundering heartbeat.

“David, you have no idea,” Patrick says with an easy laugh that lands somewhere along David’s jawline. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”


End file.
